


Jeremy Brown

by mormoriarty



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Hamish Watson-Holmes - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Parent!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mormoriarty/pseuds/mormoriarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baby Hamish Watson-Holmes needs to find his friend. His dads help him, of course. After all, they are the best consulting detectives in London.</p><p>Parent!lock fic with background, implied Johnlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeremy Brown

**Author's Note:**

> A little fic for Let's Write Sherlock Challenge #4! http://letswritesherlock.tumblr.com/post/57895078483/challenge-3-the-songfic-challenge-continues
> 
> I struggled to get this out on time, cutting it REALLY close...hope you like!

Little Hamish Watson-Holmes crawled across the living room floor of 221B Baker Street. It was a long trek, but the stuffed bear was in his sight. Two minutes into the journey, he had almost reached it. But there was something in the way.

He batted his small hand at the encountered obstacle, hoping that would make it go away.

“Hey, that’s my leg!” his Papa exclaimed, rustling his newspapers as he folded them and put them aside to scowl down at Hamish.

Hamish looked up as if to say: _Of course it’s your leg. Now, please move it. It’s in my way._ He tugged on a leg of the trousers.

John seemed to understand and shifted over from his position on the sofa. Hamish crawled on by, stretching out his hands for the teddy that sat on a little blanket on the floor. He mumbled happily and bit down on soft left ear of the stuffed toy. _Finally. Mmm._

“No, no, Hamish. There are much better things to eat than your teddy. Your Daddy should be back with your bottle soon,” John reached for the bear to tug it gently from his son- but of course, Hamish was the spawn of Sherlock and just as stubborn as his father. _Like I’m really going to give up Jeremy Brown the Third just for the promise of food!_ He hugged the bear even tighter, making a _meh!_ sound. ( _Mine!)_

His Papa sighed, readily admitting defeat. “Sherlock?”

“The bottle’s almost ready!” Sherlock called from the kitchen. He seemed to be in a good mood, from what Hamish could tell. No sulking at all. _Today._

John looked down. “You see? Your bear’s covered in germs from being on the floor, Hamish. Just wait for the bottle, ‘kay?”

He pouted. _Me, wait? How dare you think you can appease me by offering food?_

 _Oh, fine, fine. I_ am _getting hungry. But you better not be kidding when you say that it will be ready soon- oh, you will surely feel my wrath then._

Needless to say, John did not associate the slightly peeved look their son was giving them with the potential death threat Hamish’s eyes were actually trying to convey.

“All ready!” Sherlock strolled into the living room, brandishing Hamish’s lunch in his hand like it was the cure-all of the century and not merely a plastic bottle. He jumped over and leaned down to place a kiss on his son’s forehead, handing him the warm bottle.

Hamish reached for it, wrapping his chubby fingers around the middle. With one hand clutching the bear to his side, he used the other to bring the bottle to his lips, looking all the while at his dads very suspiciously, as if they were going to steal it any minute. _You wouldn’t dare._

Sherlock laughed. “Don’t worry. We’ve our own, much more suitable food, Hamish. You drink up.” He patted Hamish on the head and went to sit down next to John, kissing his husband.

“Mmm, you’re in a good mood,” John said, putting Hamish’s earlier thoughts into words.

“Nothing like a nice quiet day at home with the two of you.” Sherlock smiled. Strange that he appreciated the normality now that they had a baby in the flat. Boredom wasn’t possible anymore with Hamish in their lives. “Isn’t that right, Hamish?”

Hamish showed his agreement by pulling the bottle out of his mouth and waving it about with a smile. John laughed.

\-------

Hamish happily babbled, the sounds reaching his fathers via baby monitor. Sherlock came down to look in on him. “Nice nap, Hamish? Your Papa and I took one too.”

Hamish said something like “Ba da ba ba”, which meant something like, _Oh, okay. Now are we going to do something interesting or should I go back to sleep?_

“Well, up you get,” his Dad said, lifting him out of the cot, and putting him in a fresh diaper and cleansnapsuit.

 

After the nap, Hamish was wide awake and ready for the world.

John had planned a walk in the park, all three of them together. Sherlock had planned an experiment in lieu of going walking. And Hamish had planned to bring Jeremy Brown the Second along to wherever they were going.

No, not Jeremy Brown the Third. The other one. The Second one. (There was no first one, for some reason, but Hamish was rather fond of the name). Jeremy Brown II was a worn-looking, blue, fuzzy rabbit. Hamish had had him for as long as he could remember and Jeremy Brown II had seen many months of being loved and snuggled and generally being dragged along through the streets of London and wherever baby Hamish might go.

After it became apparent that they were actually going to go out, Hamish decked out in a little jacket and John putting on his shoes and getting ready to plop him down in the stroller; Hamish reached out his arms, obviously for the reason of summoning his stuffed toys to him.

“Okay Hamish, you can bring something along,” John said, looking down at the baby in his arms. He put Hamish down.

Hamish crawled over to his play matand looked around for Jeremy Brown II while John went into the kitchen to pack a little snack and to try to convince Sherlock to come with.

 _“Are you coming?”_ Hamish heard from where he was in the living room. He pushed some other toys out of the way. Where was it?

_“No, John, the reaction could be happening any moment now and it is crucial that I stay and observe. And walks are so boring; no one’s even chasing anyone. Why would anyone ever walk just for the sake of walking?”_

_“Fine, fine. I just thought a nice walk with your son and me-“_

_“Fine. If you insist. God knows you’ll pester me about it later anyway. Might as well.”_

Meanwhile, Hamish was scrabbling around his pile of toys and other random things. Nope, no Jeremy Brown II. Maybe his dads could help find him. _How to get their attention all the way in the kitchen?_

 

John and Sherlock rushed into the living room to see their son sitting atop his blanket and throwing a shrieking tantrum.

“Shh, shh. What’s wrong, love?” John asked. He put down the box of Cheerios and the sippy cup of apple juice he had packed. His Papa stroked his hair to try to get him to calm down. Hamish quieted immediately at the attention, and pointed to the empty spot where Jeremy Brown II usually sat. He pouted.

“Missing stuffed animal,” Sherlock said.

“Er…which one is it?” John asked.

“Either…the duck or the blue bunny. Hamish?”

“Bu! Bu!” he said.

“Right. The blue bunny,” Sherlock filled in. Hamish smiled a little at the understanding. “Check his room, John. I’ll look in here and the kitchen.”

“Don’t worry, love. We’ll find him,” John said, patting Hamish’s head.

Hamish looked up to say, _I’m hardly worried. You two are detectives, right? He’ll turn up._

John ran to Hamish’s room, while Sherlock overturned the cushions of the sofa, dug through the pile of toys in the corner, and checked underneath the kitchen table.

“Did you have him earlier today, Hamish?” Sherlock asked, turning to his son after an unsuccessful search underneath the chairs.

Hamish nodded. John came back into the living room. “You find it?”

Sherlock shrugged, empty-handed. “No. But he says he had it earlier today.”

“Let’s see.” John tried to remember. “Got dressed. Breakfast. Watched a bit of telly. Lunch…”

“Visited Mrs. Hudson!” they shouted in unison.

 

Sherlock scooped Hamish up in his arms and clattered down the stairs. “Mrs. Hudson!”

Mrs. Hudson opened her door. “Hello,” she said, patting Hamish on the nose. He laughed.  She turned back to Sherlock. “Yes, dear, you called?”

“Did Hamish leave something here earlier this afternoon?” John asked.

“You can come in and check,” she said, inviting them in. “I’ll just go put the kettle on, alright?”

Sherlock put Hamish down. “You can look around. We’ll just have a cuppa. You know how to get our attentions.” He smiled, following John into the kitchen.

Hamish crawled around Mrs. Hudson’s living room. He had been here earlier today, but where did had he left Jeremy Brown II?

 

He spotted a big looking box. It seemed familiar. Had he left it in there? He crawled into it, overturning it. There was nothing inside! Not even the soft, fluffy things that had been there earlier were in here. Where was it? He kicked the side of the box, trying to get out and knocking over a television remote in the process.

“Hamish?” his Papa called, coming back into the living room. “Oh, Hamish.” John laughed. “How did you get yourself into the laundry basket?” John turned over the basket, freeing Hamish and picking him up.

“Did you leave your toy in there earlier?” Sherlock asked.

Hamish nodded.

“Mrs. Hudson? Did you just do your laundry?”

“It was just some blankets, I think,” she answered. They paused for a moment to listen to the repetitive sounds of the washing machine.

“Ah. Hamish thinks that he left his toy in the laundry basket. It must have gotten mixed in the pile.”

Hamish looked around at their not exactly happy faces, and his face crumpled. He wanted Jeremy Brown II! Where was he?

“It’s okay, Hamish. Mrs. Hudson is just giving him a good washing up, alright?” John tried to calm him down, as he was near tears at this point.

Hamish looked blankly up at Mrs. Hudson, who was standing right in front of him. Without Jeremy Brown II. He burst into tears, the loss of his friend and the confusion finally welling up into something physical.

“Shh, shh.” His Dad picked him up and cradled him in his arms. “It’s alright, Hamish,” he whispered. “You’ll get your friend back soon enough. Just after a quick wash. He’ll be nice and clean, okay. In fact, why don’t we give you a bath so you can be as clean as him? By the time you’re done, he’ll be ready too. Okay, Hamish?”

“Good idea,” Mrs. Hudson said. “I’ll bring him up when he’s ready, boys. You just go on and give you son a nice, soothing bath, okay?”

“Thanks, Mrs. Hudson,” John said as they left her flat.

\------- 

After a nice warm bath and another bottle, Hamish came out into the living room to see his friend Jeremy Brown II sitting there peacefully on the sofa. He crawled over and reached for the bunny’s leg, pulling it close to himself and hugging the stuffed animal to his chest.

“I see you found your friend.” Sherlock smiled.

Hamish babbled, finally content with a full stomach and his friend by his side. He yawned.

“You ready for bed?” John asked, picking Hamish up. Hamish nodded, still smiling. Sherlock followed them as they walked towards Hamish’s room.

John laid him down on the cot, tucking his blankets in around him while Sherlock turned on a lamp and the baby monitor. Hamish laughed, baby-talking to his mobile above him as he lay there. He turned toward his dads.

“Da da,” he chattered, the second syllable almost covered by a yawn.

“He loves us, he really does,” John said, looking down at their sleeping son.

Sherlock smiled. “Obviously.” 


End file.
